The Three Little Boys And The Big, Bad, Fat*ss
by Kenny's Goddess
Summary: Another South Park Fairy Tale. ^_^ Cartman is hungry, and looking for something to eat...


A/N: This is another one of my twisted South Park Fairy Tales. I always wanted to make a series of them, but after I wrote the first one over a year ago, I just…kinda…stopped, because I couldn't think of a good idea. Then, a little while ago, this idea suddenly hit me. The three little pigs! The big bad wolf! Eee! It was perfect. =) So, I hope you like my warped version of classic fairy tales with the South Park gang. ^_^ They're one of my more lighter works, at least…o_O

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Once upon a time there were three little boys named Stan, Kyle, and Kenny. Now, the winters in their native land of South Park were cruel and long, so after much deliberation, they all decided to build their own houses to live in until the weather broke.

The first boy, Kenny, was very poor, so he didn't have a lot of money to get materials for his house. So, we went out into the South Park cow pasture and picked a large amount of hay and built his house with that. After he was finished, he stared at his dilapidated abode lovingly and walked inside.

"This is the best house ever!" he exclaimed, shutting the lovingly made crooked grass door behind him. "I'll be safe from everything now!"

However, the second little boy, Stan, walked past Kenny's house and started to laugh.

"Man, that house is fuckin' weak!" he cried, plucking a blade of grass from the roof, causing the entire thing to cave in. "I bet I could do much better then that!"

"HEY!" Kenny cried, spitting grass out of his mouth as Stan walked off, plans already forming in his mind about what type of house to build. Kenny grumbled and walked out the door, slamming it behind him and causing the rest of the building to fall down.

"Goddammit," he swore, staring back at it. "Now I'm going to have to start from scratch!"

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Meanwhile, Stan was a man with a plan. He had quite a bit more money then Kenny, so he headed on down to the forest to hire a logger to cut him down some wood. After obtaining the desired materials, he built his house (without nails, of course, because he's not allowed to use nails!). Afterwards, he stared at its wobbly form with fondness and walked inside, shutting and latching the door behind him.

"Now this is the best house ever!" he cried, looking all around him at the fragile framework. "I bet I can even kick it and it won't fall down!"

To prove his point, he does so, but of course, the wall collapses, sending most of the house down with it. The third boy, Kyle, laughed as he walked by.

"Guess you're going to have to make a new house, dick!" he chuckled gleefully, while Stan fumed, picking up the pieces of his broken house.

"Shut up, dick!" Stan retorted, throwing a stick at him. "My house will be better then anything of yours!"

"Woah!" Kyle cried, ducking the projectile launched at him. He stood back up and met his gaze, smirking.

"Just you wait and see until I have my house done! It'll be more better then anything!" Kyle walked off, smugly, until Stan called after him.

"You stupid dick, it's not 'more better', it's just 'better'!" he shouted, wiping the smirk off the overly confident boy's face.

"…Dammit, shut up! No one asked you, dick!" Kyle retorted as he stalked off, looking for the person he would need to talk to to get his materials.

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Now, the third little boy, whom we now know as Kyle, had a very good idea. He knew that since he had more money then any of the other kids he knew combined, and because he had a higher IQ then any of the other kids he knew combined, he could make the best house ever. He contacted a bricklayer on his personal cell phone, and had the man build him a beautiful, well-furnished brick house, complete with Jacuzzi and swimming pool. When it was complete, he walked inside and kicked the wall, the same smug smile that had been on his face when he was talking to Stan on his face now.

"Doesn't fall," he said, satisfied when the bricks didn't budge. "Kick ass! My house can stand up to anything!" Little did he know that his house was going to be put up to the test.

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Cartman was hungry. Cartman was starving. Cartman was absolutely ravenous. His stomach rumbled as he pounded around South Park, trying to find something to eat.

"Mahn, this is seriouslah weak," he moaned, rubbing his aching stomach while leaning against a tree to rest. "All ah want is just one bag of Cheesy Poofs. Just one! Then, ah can be happah." He started to walk again, unknowingly going in the direction of the South Park cow field, where Kenny had finally rebuilt his shabby grass shack. When Cartman caught sight of it, his eyes lit up with glee.

"A house!" he cried, starting to run as fast as his pudgy little legs would carry him towards it. "That's a house over there and that must mean…food for me! Kick ass y'gahs, seriouslah!"

After about five minutes, the porky little poopykins finally made his way to Kenny's door. He looked in through the "window", which was really just a hole in the grass house, to see if anything was there, and lo and behold, a bag of Cheesy Poofs was sitting on the floor! Cartman started to drool and, panting, he called into the house.

"Kenny…Kenny…please…*pant*…let me in…" he gasped, trying to get in enough air. A small voice came from behind the door.

"Not by the pubic hair on my dicky dick dick!" Kenny replied. Cartman blinked.

"…Ay! You don't even have pubic hair yet, hippah!" he replied, and then straightened up suddenly. "But, that's no matter…because if you don't open this door ah'm going to strain…and strain…and FART your house down!" Kenny's eyes widened in fear at this prospect, but still held his ground.

"No way are you getting in here, fatass!" Kenny called out boldly. "This food is my food, you assrammer!"

Now, Cartman was getting a little bit irritated by all the insults Kenny was throwing, so he strained…and strained…and FARTED the house down! Kenny saw what was happening and tried to escape, but alas, the poor little lad was caught in the god-awful fumes and was suffocated. His house collapsed on top of him, giving the poor child a burial for once in his ever-ending life. Cartman chuckled and pulled the bag of Cheesy Poofs out of the rubble, opening them and shoving them down his throat ravenously, finishing them before he had even gotten out of sight of the hapless child's house. His stomach still rumbled and raged, demanding to be fed.

"Dammit, stomach, ah just fed you, seriouslah…you goddamn hippah…" He muttered various obscenities under his breath as he looked for another house he could loot, since the attack on Kenny had been so successful. Luckily for him, he soon came upon the stick house of Stan, who was sitting inside, trying to make a TV out of the aforementioned material. Cartman ran over to the house, his stomach grumbling louder and louder with each passing second. He arrived at the door out of breath, and knocked.

"Stan…you know you wanna let me in…" he wheezed, holding his sides. Stan looked through one of the chinks in his poorly made house and shook his head.

"Not by the pubic hair on my dicky dick dick!" he exclaimed. Cartman scratched his head.

"Goddammit, why are you all saying that?" he cried. "You don't have any pubic hair yet!" He straightened himself out and turned around, his ass facing the door. "But, it all doesn't matter, because if you don't open the goddamn door right now, ah'm going to strain…and strain…and FART your house down!"

Now, since Stan was far less courageous then Kenny (and he was far more educated, as well; Everyone knows that fumes from a Cartman's rear can kill anyone within a four-mile radius on a good day) he shrugged and broke through the back of his house, making a run for it towards Kyle's house. Cartman, being the dumb fuck that he is, continued straining until he farted and the house blew down, revealing nothing inside but a tiny little butterscotch piece. Scowling, he shoved the candy in his mouth and then stomped off towards where Stan had ran, sucking greedily on it's sweetness. His stomach, not satisfied by this tiny trifle, still rumbled and growled, putting up more of a fuss then it ever had before. He clutched it, moaning, as he spied the large brick house in the distance.

"Ah should have known that would be the Jew's house!" he cried, picking up the pace. "Stupid bastards…controlling the country with their…you know…stuff…"

He marched over to the house and banged on the door with one hand, clutching his jello-mold stomach with the other.

"Kyle…let me in! Ah need food…ah'm gonna die hyar…" he gasped, in a mock attempt to sound pitiful. Stan and Kyle both peeped through the mail flap and stared at him.

"Not by the hair on our dicky dick dicks!" they both stated after a few seconds of staring. Cartman scowled and leaned his weight against the door, angrier then ever at being denied food.

"Well, fahn! That's fahn! Cause, ah'm going to strain…and strain…and FART your house down!" he snapped back. Kyle closed the mail flap and laughed.

"Sure. You try that, fatty!" he called back. Stan sighed in relief as he turned towards his friend.

"Dude, I'm sure glad that you were smart enough to do something good with your house!" he said. Kyle smirked.

"Well, I always knew I had more intelligence then the rest of you," he replied, not at all modestly. "I just wonder what happened to that poor bastard…Kenny…" Stan shrugged.

"Beats the hell out of me," he said. "All I know is that there is one pissed off fatass outside…"

"AY! COME ON, SERIOUSLAH! *pant, pant* Aw man, this is FUCKING WEEEEEEEEEEAAAAK…"

Stan and Kyle grinned and walked into the kitchen, where they had roast goose and stuffing, and lived happily ever after.

THE END…OR IS IT?

…Nope. It is. =P


End file.
